Tuesday, June 4, 2019

What Happens When My Child/Teen Goes to the ER for Psychiatric Care? (Post 1 of 3)

I am part of a private Facebook group for parents of children and teens who have bipolar or other mood disorders. Many caregivers post a frantic cry for support when their child goes into psychiatric hospitalization. I've also received emails, texts, and private messages from friends and friends of friends asking what to expect or looking for reassurance. I've decided to create a series of three blog posts covering some of the most asked questions and offering information to help educate and dispel some of the mystery.
The three posts will cover what to expect when your child/teen is in the emergency room, what acute/short term hospitalization looks like, and our experience with long term/residential treatment. Please share these posts with anyone who can use them!

What To Expect When Your Child or Teen Winds Up in the Emergency Room For Psychiatric Care:

You've found yourself at the ER with your child seeking psychiatric intervention. There are many ways this can happen: Your child is out of control, or has what the system calls "suicidal ideation", or is self harming, seems delusional; the list is endless. They may arrive by ambulance, in a police car, or under police escort, or simply in your personal vehicle. We have been to the ER many times and have arrived in my car, in my car with police escort, and in an ambulance.

Here is what you need to know:

First- don't forget to breathe. I'm very serious. I know that it's scary, and unknown, and heartbreaking to find yourself in this position, but you have to dig deep and stay calm. Your child needs you more than ever and you will need to be able to rationally answer questions, give accurate history, and most likely, spend a lot of time with your child just waiting. Staying calm might be the most difficult thing you do during this experience, especially if you came to the ER due to any violence or destructive behavior directed at you or your family. Anger is the natural response to that, and yet, for the well being of all of you, you must find a way to momentarily compartmentalize those emotions and be a calm presence for your child.

Be prepared to wait. And then wait some more. This can be an incredibly frustrating part of the process. Many hospitals have specific rooms for mental health patients, and will only utilize those rooms unless it is a life or death situation. With the continually growing mental health crisis in our country, this often means that when you arrive, the rooms are already occupied- leaving you and your child in the waiting room- many times for hours on end. Our longest stay was 27 hours from start to finish- but part of that was waiting on a bed to open up in an acute psychiatric hospital (more on that in the next post).

When you arrive and check in, you will register, give proof of insurance if you have it, then you will wait for triage. After triage (where a nurse asks you why you've come and checks your child's vitals) you will probably be sent  back to the waiting room. Your child may be called again for a blood draw, and if so, once again, you most likely will be sent back to the waiting room. Once called into a room you may notice it's different than other rooms in the ER. It may even be in an area that is closed off from the other rooms. Many rooms used for mental health patients have been prepped- often stripped of any extra instruments or objects that you'd see in other rooms to protect patients from potentially hurting themselves or others.

You can expect to see a nurse, a social worker or mental health worker, hospital registrar, and doctor at a minimum. Each time, your child will be asked if they are having thoughts of harming themselves, and if so, if there is a plan. This is tedious. It feels traumatic to have to answer that over and over, or watch your child have to repeatedly answer those questions. Just remind yourself it's part of protocol. There may be police presence. At our local hospital, there is an officer who sits outside of the mental health rooms. This is again, preventative and for protection, but I'll admit, it can make the process feel further stigmatized and removed from 'normal'.
Your child will be under a strict one on one instruction- meaning, they won't be allowed to be left alone. You will have to stay with them the entire time, and they will have to ask to use the restroom. If your child doesn't want you with them (which happens, and you will have to find a way to stand up under the weight of that pain somehow knowing they aren't well in that moment) then they will have a nurse with them constantly. If they are overly agitated or anxious, your child may be offered something to help calm them.

Prepare yourself to know there won't be a diagnosis in the ER. There will be no 'problem solved' or magic bullet. It can feel anticlimactic after the chaos that sent you there. It can be exhausting in every way, and you will likely experience a myriad of emotions. If you know some of this ahead of time, it can help you adjust your expectations so you don't wind up feeling discouraged.

Generally the goal is to create a plan going forward in order to discharge your child. This may be for your child to return home with instructions to follow up with a psychiatrist. Or, it may be that the next step is acute hospitalization at a mental health facility. In the state of VA where I live, you are no longer allowed to self-admit. You must have a medical clearance first- meaning you and your child may know that he/she wants and needs hospitalization, but you must still go through the red tape of the ER visit to justify it. If hospitalization is the next step, you will be waiting again. Hospitals are packed full and many times you are stuck waiting for a bed to open up at a facility. Often those facilities aren't local to you. The younger your child, the fewer options there are, which can mean a longer wait and possibly a facility that is a longer distance from your home. In our state if you are stuck in the ER waiting for more than 24 hours for a bed to become available, they usually admit your child to the hospital while you wait- putting you in limbo until there is space.
While this is frustrating, and shines a spotlight on the scale of psychiatric care needs, it is normal. Discouraging, yes. But sadly, normal. Most of the time a trip to the ER is a marathon, not a sprint. Try to relax if you can. I've told my son jokes, showed him vines on my phone, watched him try to sleep, played music, and calmed him when his anxiety from the wait overtook him.

The good stuff: Remember your child is in a safe place during the visit. That may be the only consolation for you in the moment, but don't discount it. Breathe it in deeply. If this is your first trip to the ER for this level of care, you are now in a good position to continue to advocate for your child in other arenas; school, counseling, testing, possibly ABA therapy or OT (for children with Autism or sensory issues), the option of getting an advocate or case worker; you have now reached a level of need that makes it obvious how desperately you need a support team. Take advantage of this reality and ask as many questions about available resources as you need to before you are discharged.


Finally: I know you feel utterly alone. You may feel as though you've failed somehow. This is a normal reaction, but it's not true. Many of us have been through this with our children- you don't know only because we aren't posting pics of them in the hospital bed on Facebook and Instagram the way parents of physically ill children often do. We're hidden in plain sight- but trust me; you are not alone. Also, you have no obligation to share information with anyone. You don't owe anyone an explanation, and you don't have to try and defend your choice (or, forced action if others were involved). As hard as it may be, find a way to stay calm and set boundaries. Privacy and space is rightfully yours and you are permitted to take all the time you need to decide what (if anything) you desire to share with anyone other than those intimately involved. You are going to get through this- and you, sweet parent or caregiver- are an amazing and loving person who is doing an incredibly difficult and compassionate thing. Much love!